Somebody's Gotta Win, Somebody's Gotta Lose
by IrishFrenchy
Summary: A small story that takes when they kids are are nearly two. Shiro goes to the bar one night to wash away his hurt but he finds that the last person he expected to see that night is there too and wants to help. Shiro/Yuri and some Shiro/Mephisto


Truth was, Father Fujimoto was not having a good day. It had been a long and dreadful one. He'd broken his glasses, a bowl at his home, screwed up an exorcism mission that a friend had asked him to go on, and even pissed off the Pope, all in one day. He was aggravated and ready to kill the next person who so much as looked at him the wrong way. Besides that though, he had other troubles on his mind, troubles he'd rather not even think about.

He stomped his cigarette out in the street with the steel toe of his boot as he looked around. "That's the first cigarette I've had in years and I hated it." After a long sigh he walked into the small neighborhood bar and over to his usual seat. American country music filtered through worn out speakers and the smell of alcohol abused his senses. Jiro, the bar tender walked over to him with his tray in hand. "Hey there, Paladin. What can I get for you, tonight?" Shiro thought for a moment then smiled. "Scotch, on the rocks." Jiro nodded and quickly went to fill the order.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mephisto Pheles was in the bar at a seat in the corner, all alone. He obviously hadn't noticed him yet. Shiro pulled his bartender over to the side and asked, "How long has been Faust in here?" The bartender thought for a moment and shrugged. "He's been nursing that gin for a while now, I'd say an hour." He thanked Jiro and he went on about his way.

An old song came on and Shiro quickly recognized it. "Kid Rock," he said aloud and memories of an old friend flitted back to him. He tried his very best to ignore his thoughts at the moment, though.

_You're no angel, I'm no saint._  
><em>If we were, we wouldn't be in this place tonight.<em>

Their gazes found each other. For a long moment, they just watched each other as the music played on. Something passed through Mephisto's expression and Shiro didn't get a chance to identify it. Shiro tried a smile, but it fell. Mephisto looked upset over something, emotional almost.

_Lost and lonely,__  
><em>_Scared and confused__  
><em>_We both have a past__  
><em>_Nothing to lose, tonight_

Mephisto was the first to look away, seeming almost embarrassed. Shiro didn't bother to try anything else. If Mephisto was mad or upset over something, he would let him be. That was the best thing for him, or so he thought anyway.

He suddenly felt like he was being strangled by the music. "Anything but this song," Shiro thought to himself as he was handed his scotch. "Jesus..." He took a big gulp from it and felt the burn go down his throat. He unbuttoned his reverend coat and tried to get comfortable, but it didn't really help.

_Well it cuts like a knife,__  
><em>_These bad luck blues__  
><em>_We both got scars__  
><em>_From the he'll we been through__  
><em>  
>Shiro glanced over in Mephisto's direction to find that his eyes were already on him. He raised his eyebrows, surprised. He watched his old friend from across the room for a moment and didn't say anything. In a slow drawl he said, "Somebody's gotta win." He was mostly speaking to himself and not to anyone in particular. The man sitting next to him gave him an odd look but he ignored him and took another swig of his scotch. "Somebody's gotta lose." The lady bartender walked past him and smirked, her breasts almost hanging out of her shirt. He smiled back politely, despite the way she nearly threw herself at him.<p>

_Somebody's gotta win__  
><em>_Somebody's gotta lose_

The bartender walked over to Mephisto's table, presumably to ask him if he would like anything else. For the time being anyway, the look he and Shiro had been sharing was cut off. Shiro went back to his scotch and ice and shook off his current thoughts. His morbid mind was in need of some numbing from a bit of booze. Today was a certain person's birthday and he was trying his best to forget it. If he were to think of all those memories, all that he and she had shared together, it would hurt a hundred times worse than it had all those years ago.

It had been ten minutes since he had looked over at Mephisto and now he almost on his third scotch. His speech was a little slurred and his eyes were beginning to get blurry. It was hard for him to focus on the hands on the clock to see what time it was. "Damn," he said. "I should be getting home soon."

_So let's roll the dice one more time__  
><em>_Take a chance on love again, tonight_

Shiro was surprised when someone said his name. He shook off his thoughts and looked around. He turned to see Mephisto taking a seat at the bar next to him and he was so surprised, he nearly fell off his bar stool. "Hello old friend," he slurred. "Haven't seen you in a few days." Mephisto gracefully took a sip of the drink he was holding. "Maybe a week."

_Risk it all, lay it all on the line__  
><em>_Let the skeletons fight for their lives_

"Yes, it has been a while. I heard you had a rough day? Explains why you're in here..." Shiro rolled his eyes, mostly to himself. "I'm always in here." He waved off Mephisto's comment and tried to focus his eyes on the demon sitting next to him. "The better question is, why are you in here? You have a bad day, too?" A stupid smile found Shiro's features.

It hadn't been the easiest day for the old demon either and he could relate, though he would never admit it, even to Shiro Fujimoto. Mephisto shook his head to himself. "Just like old times…" he mumbled under his breath. He reached up and scratched his beard a little, quite absentmindedly.

_Tonight, hold on tight as we collide_

Mephisto laughed. "You are drunk, my friend." Shiro merely shrugged in response. "That's fine with me. It feels better when I can't feel anything anyhow." Mephisto looked over at his friend, in wonder. He had never been so drunk before and it wasn't really an experience he wanted to have.

_Reconnected,__  
><em>_Feeling no pain__  
><em>_Seeking shelter like a spark in the rain, tonight_

"Why would you want to feel nothing?" Mephisto asked the exorcist who was sitting drunkly at his side. He took a long sip before answering. "I don't have have to feel pain..." He gave his friend a quick glance after he shut his mouth. "Pain from what?" Mephisto pushed, genuinely curious. Being a demon had it's faults... He knew little of human emotion and reasoning. His white jacket was unbuttoned and he had traded his white and pink pants for a pair of slacks.

Shiro didn't answer so Mephisto continued. "You loved her, didn't you?" He couldn't help but wonder out loud and he thought of the two boys at home who must have been asleep by now. Shiro caught his gaze, mostly by accident. He had been looking up at the tele to see what was on. A basketball game continued on the screen and you could hear the ref. call a time-out. "You loved her." Mephisto repeated himself, certain this time. Shiro nodded lightly. "Every day up until the moment she drew her last breath. I still do." There was a moment of pain and silence between them. Mephisto looked sympathetic, caring even. "It's her birthday today," Shiro told his friend. His shouders slumped from the weight of all his pain. He rubbed his eyes hard and blinked a few times. Mephisto noticed how sunken in his eyes were and how they were surrounded by such dark circles. Sleep must not have come easy for his friend, he concluded. "It's not good to hold onto such things. It was not your fault she passed on. She would want you to move on and fall in love with someone to spend the rest of your days with, Fujimoto." His voice got a little thick with emotion as he spoke. "I can't... Don't you see, she was the only one I would have wanted to spend my life with?"

_Worn and weathered__  
><em>_Scared to go home__  
><em>_We're here together__  
><em>_But still all alone, tonight_

Mephisto watched Shiro for a long moment and for the first time he noticed the change. A broken man had replaced the strong, ruthless, and confident exorcist he had once known. He shook his head. "Come on," he told his friend. He would not stand for this. He wouldn't let him kill his liver with alcohol. And he certainly would not let him stay here alone, condemned to old and lonely memories.

_And there's no need to lie__  
><em>_We've both been abused__  
><em>_The love and he pain,__  
><em>_The cocaine and booze__  
><em>_Moat people don't but some people do_

Shiro gave Mephisto an odd look and cleared his throat. "What the hell are you talking about?" He finished off his red label scotch in one swig. "Did I stutter?" Mephisto asked, slightly amused. There was an edge to his voice but Shiro quickly dismissed it. "I said, come on. We're leaving right now. I'm getting you home." The reverend shook his head. "You sound like an old wife..."

"At least then you'd already know I loved you…" Mephisto let the words slip before he even had a chance to stop himself. Shiro tried to focus his eyes on the demon but couldn't quite manage it. The demon tried to get past it but Shiro wouldn't have it. "Do you..." He couldn't finish the sentence. His expression fell and he was suddenly at a loss for words.

_So let's roll the dice one more time__  
><em>_Take a chance on love again, tonight_

Mephisto dragged Shiro from his bar stool as he paid the hefty tab. He sighed as he pulled the yen from his wallet and dropped it onto the cold wood of the bar. Shiro didn't bother arguing as Mephisto walked him to the door. He threw the man's arm up and over his shoulder to help him walk. "It's been a while since I've had to practically carry you home like this, Oldspice."

Once they were outside, Mephisto hoped the cool night air would sober his old friend some. He looked at Mephisto as he buttoned up his coat. "So..." Mephisto looked over at him, eyeing him. "You need to stop this; I care too much about you." Shiro raised his eyebrows at Mephisto. "Oh?" The demon buttoned up his own coat after he shivered. He wrapped his scarf around his neck to keep warm. "Yes, really. You have a family now, you know. Doesn't that matter? Go home and take of them. They are a part of her, the good part of her." Shiro slipped his hands into his pockets as he watched Mephisto speak. "You're going to have a wicked hangover in the morning though, I'm afraid." Shiro shook his head, thinking. "Yeah, I know. I can't wait." His humor was as dry as ever and Mephisto couldn't help but shake his head. "Sometimes moving on is hard but it is always necessary." By the time Shiro realized what Mephisto had meant, he had no idea how to reply. "She would want you to, old man." With that, Pheles said nothing more on the subject. He left the thought to simmer in his friend's mind. Food for thought, as Shiro would say.

_Risk it all, lay it all on the line__  
><em>_Let the skeletons fight for their life_

"Mephisto… I never got an answer from you. Why _were _you in the neighborhood bar tonight?" He never received an answer though, for his friend walked away, not having bothered to say goodnight or goodbye. "Typical Mephisto," Shiro said quietly to himself. The demon stopped short after a moment, turning back around to see Shiro. "I had a feeling you would be at the Dirty Dragon tonight. Figured I could give you good incentive to go home instead. Like I said, I care." He had to shout over the noisy crowd that was in the bar for Shiro to hear him. Shiro shook his head to himself, still lost in wonder. How had Mephisto known it was Yuri Egin's birthday? How had he remembered? It was so long ago that Mephisto and she had met. "Keep safe on the way home," Shiro yelled to Mephisto as he walked away. Mephisto touched the brim of his hat in return. "You too."

_Tonight, hold on tight as we collide__  
><em>_As we collide_


End file.
